


Pack Light

by theshipsfirstmate



Series: Sight of the Sun [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Post finale fic, road trip fic drive, roadtrip!olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Finale Road Trip Fluff! Because of earring parallels and the limited trunk space in Porsches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pack Light

_A/N: Special thanks to the anon who sent[Bre](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Bre) the [tip about the earrings](http://dust2dust34.tumblr.com/post/118918932904/in-the-porsche-scene-felicity-is-wearing-the-same) and [sammieathome who pointed out the limited storage space in a Porsche](http://sammieathome.tumblr.com/post/118909385136/so) for their inspiration. _

_Legal Disclaimer: I don’t even own my own chill after that finale._

 

**Pack Light**

It takes Felicity a good hour to convince Oliver to leave her bed the next morning, and another thirty minutes or so to actually get him out of her apartment. Not that she’s complaining about round four, five, up against her front door (because seriously, those arms?), but she knows that if they’re going to get on the road and down the coast before sunset, they need to get moving like, now. So she hustles him out the door, pausing for a long, wet goodbye kiss that she feels in her kneecaps long after he turns and runs down the stairs, and gets to packing.

“Packing” is probably a generous for what she actually does, dazedly tossing clothes into her huge roller bag, taking long pauses to consider the woman with the huge grin that she sees in the mirror. She’s so happy, she doesn’t even recognize herself. Every time, it makes her think of him and how happy he is too, how happy she’s learning they can be together. And every time she catches a glimpse of her own moony eyes, it bumps her even higher into the clouds.

She showers and does her hair and makeup, adding the finishing touch when she opens the bottom drawer of the ornate jewelry box that had been a gift from her grandmother. Inside is one pair of earrings, the pair she had worn on their first date. The earrings he had pulled gently from her ears after she woke with a start on the cold metal table in the Foundry. She remembers realizing that the explosion had knocked her out long enough to change his mind about something. She remembers half-heartedly answering Diggle’s questions while she watched Oliver walk to the sink and rinse the delicate jewelry off, wiping the stones and metal clean of her blood, before returning to place the earrings in her hand, refusing to meet her eyes. She remembers a kiss that was goodbye, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much now, drowned in the kisses that have followed.

Despite the time she spends remembering, she’s actually finished packing with minutes to spare, impatiently deciding to go downstairs and meet him at the curb. For one rushed nostalgic moment, she feels so much like the little girl that always got to the bus stop half an hour early, terrified of missing out on a day of school. That girl has a new definition of terrified now, but she also has a new definition of love and Felicity’s knuckles go white on the handle of her bag when the reason behind both pulls up in a shiny black Porsche with the top down, looking at her like she’s everything he’s ever wanted.

When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, though, she notices that he’s frowning, his brow furrowed, and her heart drops into her stomach with dread. She’s still wary of this happiness, she realizes in a hot panic that burns its way through her brain, still afraid that it could be torn away in the blink of an eye like it has so many times before. Then she realizes he’s staring at her suitcase.

“Um, we might have a problem,” he tells her warily, popping the hood on the Porsche to reveal an inconveniently tiny trunk that’s already half-stuffed with his own duffel bag. She breathes out a sigh of relief so strong it crooks his eyebrows in concern and she wants to explain, but she knows that this isn’t the time to panic about when their vigilante lives will inevitably come calling. In fact, this is the time to get on the road as fast as possible, to avoid getting waylaid by the past before they can even begin.

“Ugh, I so don’t want to try and repack this,” she confesses, rolling her bag back and forth on the curb, catching his eye. “I don’t even know what’s in here. I was a little...distracted.”

“Distracted?” he repeats with a flare, finally coming around the hood to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her deep. She’s wearing flats for the car ride, and when he pulls her up towards him, she’s off her toes in seconds. Her arms wrap tight around his neck, but less to help keep her up and more just because she wants to as he breathes into her mouth. “Distracted by what?”

“Distracted by the thought of you getting back here to kiss me like that,” she tells him, sliding down his body as she regains her footing, trailing hands down the hard front of his abdomen. He hitches in a breath and she continues. “Distracted by the thought of you kissing me like that in about twelve different states...”

“Leave the suitcase,” he cuts her off, pressing his forehead against hers.

“What?” she looks up at him with incredulous eyes, only to see his have deepened to a shade she recognizes from last night.

“Just leave it,” he says again, adding with a grin. “I mean, you’re not going to need clothes, not really.”

“Oliver,” she says, pulling back with a flush, voice teetering on practicality around the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat.“I’m going to need some clothes, some of the time. 

“I’ll buy you whatever you need,” he tells her. “I’ll buy you a new dress at every place we stop, if you want.”

“That’s crazy,”

“I will,” he says, solemn. “Whatever you need Felicity.”

“Not to pry, but while your offer is generous and the Porsche is... impressive,” Felicity suddenly recalls, clearing her throat with a little teasing look, “how are you planning to pay for all of this?”

“Borrowed some money from Thea,” he confesses with a shrug. “She told me to get you something pretty. I’d say this is pretty much exactly for what she had in mind.”

“Oliver, I can’t just…”

_“Whatever you need, Felicity.”_

And he does.

He buys her a new cardigan when he tears a hole in the white lace one she’s wearing at the first rest stop, pressing her up against a tree and sucking a hickey on her neck that the new sweater doesn’t even begin to cover.

He buys her an evening gown the color of the red wine they drink at a vineyard in Coast City, and it’s lucky, because she accidentally splashes a little on herself when he runs his hand up her thigh in the middle of dinner.

He buys her ridiculously expensive designer sunglasses when she decides to wear her contacts one day and she spends the afternoon teasing him that they’re not to shield her from the sun, but from the smile he hasn’t been able to wipe off his face the whole trip. She’s taken to teasing him mercilessly about his happiness, wondering if he’s going to catch bugs in his teeth, ever since he asked her if he could “say something strange.” He laughs at her jokes, but she knows it’s only because his sheer joy is the only thing her mind can focus on most of the time.

He buys her a bright blue bathing suit that matches her eyes, with ties on the sides that make his forefinger and thumb rub together in that way she’s always noticed, but he never even gets his chance, because “come on, Oliver, it’s a private beach.”

He buys her a red dress that he says reminds him of the one she wore on their first date and she puts her hair down and wears the earrings and this time, when he carries her out, her legs are wrapped around his waist.

He buys her a plush bathrobe at the MGM Grand in Vegas when they stop to see her mom and it’s the most clothing she’s worn in a hotel room the entire trip. But of course, that doesn’t last.

He buys her a baseball cap he swears she was wearing in one of the many versions of this dream he keeps telling her about, the one that makes her hands shake with need and want and memories, the one where they ride off together. It’s not her style at all, but it’s worth it for the way he bumps his head on the brim when he leans in to kiss her nose.

In the end, the thing she probably wears the most is the earrings, (more than once, they’re the only thing she’s wearing) because damn if their luck hasn’t done a 180 in the past year. When they finally return to Starling City, the only things she ends up keeping are those earrings and the last thing that he buys her: a ring. A platinum band with a diamond surrounded by two smaller emeralds that he slides on her right ring finger as they watch the sun set on their last night outside of town. He whispers to her as their shining eyes meet, swearing a hundred promises in one vow he knows he’ll keep.

“Whatever you need, Felicity.”


End file.
